Magic Bear Princesses
Last October The Actual Bear and I took a trip to the artsy, historical, and utterly lovely little mountain town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
I booked us a dinner train ride that goes along the mountainside. We'd aimed for peak color when I made the reservations and we frigging nailed it. The trees were as golden as they were gonna get, and the weather was sublime.
While waiting for the train to arrive, we watched the other couples. One pair was especially cute -- early twenties, this absolutely beautiful girl with her adorable boy never more than a couple of feet away. Just married, Bear said. Look at how close they stand. I remarked that he was wearing a new ring -- I couldn't see her left hand because he was holding it like the whole time. It was really sweet.
The train ride was quietly magical. The engine was this adorable old thing, chugging away, and the dining car was turn-of-the-century gorgeous. A lovely experience, juuust the right amount of cheesy. The hills were covered with yellow and orange trees and the setting sun was brilliant shining off them, and when the sun went down far enough, the valleys were plunged into blue shadow. We stopped on a bridge overlooking a little mountain stream with mimosa trees leaning over it. It was just . . . gorgeous.
With about seven other couples there, the beautiful old car was neither uncomfortably empty nor uncomfortably full. We sat opposite one another and talked and held hands and were just in general pretty disgustingly cute. I can't speak for the Bear, but I wasn't really uncomfortable . . . I mean, yeah, an apparently same-sex couple, public place, but Eureka Springs is full of same-sex couples -- a local shopowner estimated the town's resident LGBT population at a whopping 40%. I was aware of it, though. Just . . . a thing that was present in the back of my mind.
The couple ahead of me and to the right, older couple, well-dressed but not overdressed . . . it wasn't a sad occasion, and they were very much in love with each other, they were laughing and having a good time and were obviously very close, but there was just something about they way they sat and conversed. I can't put my finger on it, but they'd gotten bad news about two weeks ago, or had lost someone. From the odd word here and there, I got the impression sister and cancer, but I will never know if I was right.
Before dessert the train crew asked if anyone had any happy occasions that were being celebrated. The young couple we'd been watching announced that they had, indeed, just gotten married, and there was applause and toasting all around.
Then Chariots of Fire came on the sound system, and they wheeled out dessert: flaming baked Alaska in the shape of a train engine, complete with headlight and fire coming out of the smokestack. Yes, I said it was a little cheesy. I like a little cheesy. Turns out I like baked Alaska, too. I had never had it before, didn't even know what it was. The Actual Bear, having lived in Alaska for a time, had never tried it either, so we were excited to rectify our ignorance, and doing so proved pretty tasty.
After dessert the engine reversed and we backed up toward the station. The light was fading rapidly, the way it does in hilly country.
I came and sat next to the Actual Bear and just leaned against her, and we talked and laughed and had a nice time, and at some point during the ride back, she said "I love you."
I paused, shook my head, not sure if I'd heard what I thought I'd heard. "Wait, what?"
"I love you," she said. And it was the first time either of us had said it.
Of course I said it back.
She had beat me to it by like twenty minutes -- I was going to tell her on the platform when we got back. Maybe at the hotel.
As we pulled up to the station again, the older couple prepared to leave. The woman leaned over.
"Excuse me."
There's going to be a first time that someone gives us crap. I was sort of almost expecting that. Not really, but the thought was there. You never know, right? Mostly I was just perplexed. Like, what could they want? Suddenly afraid I'd ruined their dinner, I frantically tried to remember if we'd discussed anything really horrible because that happens a lot.
"Would you like us to take your picture?"
It was . . . I don't know why, but it was literally the last thing I had expected. But they'd heard the whole "I love you"/"Wait, what?" conversation, I think, and I think they were amused by it and probably moved by our obvious affection, like we were with the young couple.
So we got a few pics taken, and I got a little choked up. We somehow managed to thank them, and everybody disembarked.
I excused myself and darted out. It was dark, and I caught the cute young couple just as they were walking off the platform, like I'd been planning to do the whole time.
"Excuse me," I said. They looked about as confused as I had been. "I just wanted to say congratulations and good luck. You are a beautiful mermaid princess, and you are a handsome bear prince, and I hope you have many wonderful adventures together."
No, really, I actually said that. Like, exactly that. And the guy looked surprised and befuddled and sort of gently amused, but the girl looked stunned. And I know it's because people don't talk that way to very, very fat girls, which she was, even when they are very, very beautiful, which she also was. And I knew right then that I'd hit it, that I'd given her a compliment that actually got through, which is incredibly hard to do if the person is someone who has been subjected to body shame their whole lives. (I don't know that she had, but she was built like a lifelong fat person, and I just don't believe for a moment she had never been bullied about it.)
They thanked me, obviously touched, and went on into the dark, hopefully into something like happily ever after. And I know they will never forget it, and I will never forget it, and it's just one of those moments of sonder, where you are aware of the people around you as parts of stories you will never know. Like the boy at Michaels looking for lace for his mother's Christmas present. These rare moments where you become, for fifteen seconds or fifteen minutes, part of someone's fairy tale. And you never know if it ended well or badly, or if it even ended at all. All you know is that moment, that exchange. You were an NPC.
I know I'm probably not getting across the way the whole thing was just . . . moving, but I wanted to write it down anyway, because I've been meaning to try since it happened.
I like to think those kids will call each other bear prince and mermaid princess. I like to think some of that magic will stick for them. That if it has to end, it ends well.
I hope for the best for the kind older couple, and I'm really grateful they gave us that moment, that immediate affirmation of rightness. They gave us this magical little moment, and I immediately went and did it for someone else. And that is how the world should work. That is how magic should work.
There's a lot I would like to write about The Actual Bear. An account, maybe, someday, of the astoundingly magical first trip we took up there, and how everything in the universe aligned to give us everything we asked for and then some. Or about how remarkable she is, and how much I love her, and how terrified I am that I will hurt her or that this will end badly. How she brings out a better person in me than I thought I cared to be. How she can actually comfort me. How I nearly fell asleep in her lap tonight like a big sleepy wolf. How strange and silly and magical things just happen when we are together.
But I am tired and I need to sleep, so I will just let you all go.
The world is an awful place, but life is pretty great. You know?
X-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment count:
I booked us a dinner train ride that goes along the mountainside. We'd aimed for peak color when I made the reservations and we frigging nailed it. The trees were as golden as they were gonna get, and the weather was sublime.
While waiting for the train to arrive, we watched the other couples. One pair was especially cute -- early twenties, this absolutely beautiful girl with her adorable boy never more than a couple of feet away. Just married, Bear said. Look at how close they stand. I remarked that he was wearing a new ring -- I couldn't see her left hand because he was holding it like the whole time. It was really sweet.
The train ride was quietly magical. The engine was this adorable old thing, chugging away, and the dining car was turn-of-the-century gorgeous. A lovely experience, juuust the right amount of cheesy. The hills were covered with yellow and orange trees and the setting sun was brilliant shining off them, and when the sun went down far enough, the valleys were plunged into blue shadow. We stopped on a bridge overlooking a little mountain stream with mimosa trees leaning over it. It was just . . . gorgeous.
With about seven other couples there, the beautiful old car was neither uncomfortably empty nor uncomfortably full. We sat opposite one another and talked and held hands and were just in general pretty disgustingly cute. I can't speak for the Bear, but I wasn't really uncomfortable . . . I mean, yeah, an apparently same-sex couple, public place, but Eureka Springs is full of same-sex couples -- a local shopowner estimated the town's resident LGBT population at a whopping 40%. I was aware of it, though. Just . . . a thing that was present in the back of my mind.
The couple ahead of me and to the right, older couple, well-dressed but not overdressed . . . it wasn't a sad occasion, and they were very much in love with each other, they were laughing and having a good time and were obviously very close, but there was just something about they way they sat and conversed. I can't put my finger on it, but they'd gotten bad news about two weeks ago, or had lost someone. From the odd word here and there, I got the impression sister and cancer, but I will never know if I was right.
Before dessert the train crew asked if anyone had any happy occasions that were being celebrated. The young couple we'd been watching announced that they had, indeed, just gotten married, and there was applause and toasting all around.
Then Chariots of Fire came on the sound system, and they wheeled out dessert: flaming baked Alaska in the shape of a train engine, complete with headlight and fire coming out of the smokestack. Yes, I said it was a little cheesy. I like a little cheesy. Turns out I like baked Alaska, too. I had never had it before, didn't even know what it was. The Actual Bear, having lived in Alaska for a time, had never tried it either, so we were excited to rectify our ignorance, and doing so proved pretty tasty.
After dessert the engine reversed and we backed up toward the station. The light was fading rapidly, the way it does in hilly country.
I came and sat next to the Actual Bear and just leaned against her, and we talked and laughed and had a nice time, and at some point during the ride back, she said "I love you."
I paused, shook my head, not sure if I'd heard what I thought I'd heard. "Wait, what?"
"I love you," she said. And it was the first time either of us had said it.
Of course I said it back.
She had beat me to it by like twenty minutes -- I was going to tell her on the platform when we got back. Maybe at the hotel.
As we pulled up to the station again, the older couple prepared to leave. The woman leaned over.
"Excuse me."
There's going to be a first time that someone gives us crap. I was sort of almost expecting that. Not really, but the thought was there. You never know, right? Mostly I was just perplexed. Like, what could they want? Suddenly afraid I'd ruined their dinner, I frantically tried to remember if we'd discussed anything really horrible because that happens a lot.
"Would you like us to take your picture?"
It was . . . I don't know why, but it was literally the last thing I had expected. But they'd heard the whole "I love you"/"Wait, what?" conversation, I think, and I think they were amused by it and probably moved by our obvious affection, like we were with the young couple.
So we got a few pics taken, and I got a little choked up. We somehow managed to thank them, and everybody disembarked.
I excused myself and darted out. It was dark, and I caught the cute young couple just as they were walking off the platform, like I'd been planning to do the whole time.
"Excuse me," I said. They looked about as confused as I had been. "I just wanted to say congratulations and good luck. You are a beautiful mermaid princess, and you are a handsome bear prince, and I hope you have many wonderful adventures together."
No, really, I actually said that. Like, exactly that. And the guy looked surprised and befuddled and sort of gently amused, but the girl looked stunned. And I know it's because people don't talk that way to very, very fat girls, which she was, even when they are very, very beautiful, which she also was. And I knew right then that I'd hit it, that I'd given her a compliment that actually got through, which is incredibly hard to do if the person is someone who has been subjected to body shame their whole lives. (I don't know that she had, but she was built like a lifelong fat person, and I just don't believe for a moment she had never been bullied about it.)
They thanked me, obviously touched, and went on into the dark, hopefully into something like happily ever after. And I know they will never forget it, and I will never forget it, and it's just one of those moments of sonder, where you are aware of the people around you as parts of stories you will never know. Like the boy at Michaels looking for lace for his mother's Christmas present. These rare moments where you become, for fifteen seconds or fifteen minutes, part of someone's fairy tale. And you never know if it ended well or badly, or if it even ended at all. All you know is that moment, that exchange. You were an NPC.
I know I'm probably not getting across the way the whole thing was just . . . moving, but I wanted to write it down anyway, because I've been meaning to try since it happened.
I like to think those kids will call each other bear prince and mermaid princess. I like to think some of that magic will stick for them. That if it has to end, it ends well.
I hope for the best for the kind older couple, and I'm really grateful they gave us that moment, that immediate affirmation of rightness. They gave us this magical little moment, and I immediately went and did it for someone else. And that is how the world should work. That is how magic should work.
There's a lot I would like to write about The Actual Bear. An account, maybe, someday, of the astoundingly magical first trip we took up there, and how everything in the universe aligned to give us everything we asked for and then some. Or about how remarkable she is, and how much I love her, and how terrified I am that I will hurt her or that this will end badly. How she brings out a better person in me than I thought I cared to be. How she can actually comfort me. How I nearly fell asleep in her lap tonight like a big sleepy wolf. How strange and silly and magical things just happen when we are together.
But I am tired and I need to sleep, so I will just let you all go.
The world is an awful place, but life is pretty great. You know?
X-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment count: